My Name Is
by Diane Langley
Summary: A name may seem like a simple enough thing, but mine is more complex than most...This is a oneshot. No particular pairing. A quick read, and a quick review. Please do both!


My name is Kate Austen.

My name is Kate Austen, but the people who know me now call me Haley Wright. I think the name suits me. I tried on a few different ones for a while, wearing each one like an evening dress. It was fine for a month, for one party or so, but nothing worked until Haley. I like being Haley. She's a sweet girl, a nice persona that I created for myself. I stretched and molded her to myself so easily that sometimes I forget that I am not Haley Wright. I am not a sweet girl. I am a very bad girl.

Actually, I am a convicted felon. I lived a criminal's life on the run from the law, got caught, and died on the plane transporting me back to the States. Yet here I am. I still don't know how I got Jack to lie for me. The look in his eyes…well, when we knew we were going to be rescued, he knew what I was going to ask him. He may have said yes, but he did not say goodbye. I think that was cruel of him.

Who was Jack, you ask? What am I talking about? You see, Oceanic Flight 815 crashed on a routine flight from Australia to the United States of America, and many of the passengers survived the crash. A few more survived a year on the island. I was one of the survivors, one of the "strong" who made it through that year until our rescue. However, no one outside our island community was ever told that. Jack lied for me, lied for me for everyone, so that I can live my normal life.

Jack Shepherd was our doctor, our hero, and a man after any girl's own heart. I remember his smile especially; he never laughed like it was easy for him. The sound always took a few extra seconds to get out, as if had to work to escape from the burden he always carried. I followed the news on Jack. For a while after everyone on the island's miraculous return to society, he was America's favorite bachelor. I bet his ex-wife was crying her eyes out. Unless he did it very secretly, he hasn't tied the knot with anyone, or I would know about it.

I can understand why he didn't. I have dated some since the return, but something about me is still wrong. I am happy, don't get me wrong, but I am not right. There is part of me that either died in the crash or was left on that island. I don't know which one it is, but I do know that part of me is gone.

It's hard for me to believe that we all returned to society, and you never hear about any of us still being friends like I would have thought. I guess it is too traumatic to see each other. Everyone is so desperate to move on that we are leaving one another behind. It's a bittersweet thing, but at least we're here where we can move on.

Claire has a husband now. I don't know who he is, but I saw a blurb in the newspaper about her wedding. Aaron is almost three years old now. I saw his picture, and I can't help but wonder what it will feel like when he is older. He is one of the survivors of Oceanic Flight 815, but he will never remember it. How will that make him feel, I wonder?

He won't remember the fear of our last six months there. I'm glad he doesn't have the burden of that on him, because that load is almost too much for me to bear. First it was Charlie. We found his body floating in the lagoon. When I say we, I mean Sawyer and I, and when I say the lagoon, I mean our lagoon… Sawyer and I loved to swim there.

Charlie hadn't drowned though. He had been strangled and then disposed of. I hated that; I sobbed against Sawyer for so long I thought I might never stop. When I saw that he wasn't crying, I ran from him, into the jungle, to tell Jack. He needed to know. That was the last time I ever saw Sawyer alive.

He was the next to go. They shot him. Even thinking about it now makes my hands shake. With so much time since that, I can look back objectively and wonder if I did love him, or if it was his death that made me love him so much more. I don't like to think about that. I don't like to think that he earned my truest love through death. I prefer to think of that it was his death that shook the truth and realization out of me.

Over the months, Jin, Hurley, and Bernard were killed. For some reason, they only hunted men. Perhaps they were trying to weaken us; I'll never know. What I do know is that when Sayid got that blessed walkie-talkie transmitting and we realized we were getting off of the island, I was incredibly torn.

When the ship came to get us, I was sitting at Sawyer's grave. It was just a hole with a body in it, but I had never missed a day of visiting it. Whenever I sat there, I felt like he was still alive. Don't ask me why a grave made him seem alive to me; I don't know, but it did. I could hear his deep voice, see the dimples creasing his unshaven cheeks, and watch those blue eyes twinkle. I always talked to his grave. It just seemed like the right thing to do.

I haven't done much since I've been here. I'm living in New York City, where I am just a face in the crowds. I have an honest job, an honest life, and I have to hide my feelings well. I can't tell anyone why I am so afraid of planes or why I smile every time Jack Shepherd makes a brief appearance in a newspaper or magazine or why cowboy movies make me cry even when they aren't sad or why I am still marveled by the joy of cutting on a light switch…no one can ever know those things because Haley Wright is just a normal girl. She has never had an adventure in her life. She was not on Oceanic Flight 815.

Kate Austen was, but she died out there. She died alongside Sawyer and her other companions. Sometimes it feels like she survived, but most of the time I understand, that she did not. Kate Austen died on an unnamed island in the middle of the ocean. What about me?

My name is Haley Wright.

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Disclaimer: Yes, I own Lost. It is my brain-child, and I am so fond of it that I spend my time writing one-shot fanfiction. (What are you, stupid?)

Author's Note: Hello again. Two LOST fics so close together. This one was a short inspired piece that /is not very good/. I say that so that you have no misconceptions about my opinion of it. It is mediocre at best, but if you can contract some enjoyment from it, then I have more than done my job. Also, if you like this one a little, you should read one of my other two one-shots…and you should let me know what sort of fanfics you guys want! I live to please the brilliant readers and reviewers!


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